Photographic Memories
by moca07
Summary: What happens when spring-cleaning at Alfred's accidentally leads to the spilling of a box full of old photos? USUK with an ever so small hint of Spamano. T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

"OWW!"

"Alfred! Are you ok?"

I was around April 22 and, as Alfred would say, it's also the time for spring-cleaning! Currently, the younger nation was attempting to clean his bookshelf, only failing to do so when a pile of photo albums fell on his head.

"Goodness, you have to be more careful!"

Arthur was gently running his hand through Alfred's hair, making sure there wasn't a bump. As Alfred allowed the Brit to probe his head, he turned his nose up and curiously sniffed the air.

"Hey Arty, I think something's burning.", said Alfred nonchalantly.

"GWAH!", shouted Arthur as he shot up from where he was sitting,

"MY SCONES!"

Alfred grimaced as he thought about Arthur's monstrosity known as scones.

"You're making those things again?"

"OH, SHUT UP!"

Arthur threw cuss words every which way as he raced urgently to the kitchen. Alfred sighed softly once he turned side ways and looked at all the pictures that were strewn across the room. Slowly, the American got up and started picking up the pictures in random order until...

"Hey Arty! Come look at this!"

"What is it now, Alfred?", asked Arthur coming out of the kitchen covered in something that looked suspiciously like gun powder.

"What the hell are you- Actually, I don't want to know. Anyway, look what I found! It's some of those pictures we took when we went to visit everyone's houses together!"

Alfred pointed to a small cluster of photos that were gathered by a sunny spot by the window.

"Huh.", grunted Arthur as he sat down beside Alfred and started hovering over the pictures with interest.

"How strange... I don't remember where this photo was taken."

The English man was fingering one of the pictures puzzlingly. Alfred scooted over to where Arthur was placed and turned to look excitedly at what had been

uncovered. A grin spread across his face.

"Dude! I totally remember that! We were at Antonio's place!"

The two were looking at a picture of themselves sitting on an old fashion swing that was hanging from a large tree. The swing seemed to be place rather high up due to the couple's reactions. The American was throwing his hands up in the air and had a wide, playful smile dancing across his face. Practically on top of him was Arthur, cling to the rope of the swing like it was his lifeline and looking down at the ground like it was an endless abyss.

"Really? Tell me about it!"

Arthur was acting unusually eager, so Alfred couldn't help but oblige.

"M'kay, listen carefully!"

* * *

><p>"UWAHHH~! Antonio! You live here?"<p>

"Sí! Isn't beautiful?"

Alfred and Arthur had just arrived at the grand Alhambra Gardens. Alfred was marveling at the sight of the traditional Spanish architecture and lush gardens while Arthur stood in awe at the fact that it wasn't raining. He's so simple sometimes, thought Alfred as he stared at Arthur lovingly and gave him a soft smile.

"Come on Arty~! Let's go!"

Alfred latched his hand on to the Brit's small wrist and started dragging him along when Antonio pulled them to a stop.

"Oi! Mes amigos! I have to meet Lovi for lunch so I can't come with you. Sorry! Here's a map. You can get lost real easy in there!"

"Okay~!

Antonio handed the duo a map as he scampered off to his sleek red car.

"Alfred, let's go here."

Arthur was intensely studying the map as Antonio drove away, feeling a new found motivation to explore. Alfred inched closer to Arthur, trying to see where he was looking to go.

"The Garden of Linda- what?"

"The Garden of Lindaraja, you git. It looks nice."

Arthur was aiming his finger at a little green patch on the map.

"OK! To the Garden of...THE PRETTY GARDEN!"

America nodded with satisfaction at the new name he had given the garden. Arthur sighed and whispered under his breath,

"Idiot..."

•••••

"WHOA! Look at those trees! They're HU-UGE! HEY! Look! There's a swing! Come on Arty!"

They finally arrive at the small garden after a hour of twisting through the many corridors and getting lost at least three times.

"Alfred! Stop shouting we are being stared at!"

Arthur was looking around at the other tourist who were giving the boys strange glares as if telling them to shut-up.

"Hey, earth to Arty!"

Alfred waved his hand in front of Arthur's face.

"Let's take a picture on the swing!"

"No!"

Arthur was snap out of his spell.

"Pl-easeee~?"

America was moving closer and closer to Arthur until there lips were almost touching.

"F-Fine...but who's going to take the picture?", sputtered out Arthur, his face a deep shade of crimson red.

"No problem!", said Alfred, pulling away from the blushing brit and making a beeline to an unsuspecting tourist. As soon as Alfred starting speaking, the tourist starting flailing his hands in a motion that said 'I don't understand!' Arthur decided to walk over and see if he could be of assistance.

"Alfred, what's going on?"

As Arthur came closer he could hear the tourist saying 'I do not understand' with a thick Russian accent, so he decide to intervene.

"Не могли бы вы сфотографировать нас?"

The tourist gave a sigh of relief when she heard her language being spoken then nodded her head, agreeing to take the picture.

"Since when do you know how to speak Russian?"

Alfred was showing a expression of surprise after hearing the foreign language roll off Arthur's tongue.

"I'm trying to learn the languages that the other allies speak."

Arthur responded to Alfred's question in a-matter-of-fact tone as they walked over to the old, wooden swing. Alfred hopped on to the swing while Arthur asked the tourist to take the picture when they gave her the thumbs up sign. Arthur turned around to get up on the swing when something suddenly clicked in his head.

"Where do I sit? The swing's only made for one person."

"Heh."

Alfred grinned slyly as he took his hand and patted his lap as if calling a dog. A wide blush spread across Arthur's face once he realized what the American was saying. The English man opened his mouth to protest but knew he would never win so he allowed himself to be hoisted up onto Alfred's lap. Once they were both safely seated on the swing, Alfred start rocking back and forth.

"What are you doing?"

Arthur gripped the ropes that held the swing to the tree. Alfred just kept swinging higher and higher, when suddenly...

"WH-HOO!"

Alfred let go of the swing's ropes and gave the thumbs up sign.

CLICK!

The shutter of the camera sounded just when the swing was in mid-air. Normally, Arthur would be thinking 'what a cool looking picture that's going to be', but right now all he was thinking was 'AHHHH!' Arthur squeezed his eyes shut when suddenly he felt Alfred's lips pressed on his forehead. Arthur opened his eyes and looked up.

"We stopped."

Alfred jumped down, and then helped Arthur down because he was still woozy from the ride. They thanked the tourist and took back their camera but just before the turned away, the girl asked something.

"Хм...Вы двое пара?"

Arthur stopped still in his tracks and his face flush bright red. Arthur turned around, nodded quickly then grabbed a confused Alfred's arm and stuttered,

"L-Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Oh! So that's what happened. I remember now."<p>

Arthur nodded his head while the memories came back.

"So what did that lady ask to make you blush?"

Arthur's cheeks slightly turned cherry pink.

"S-She asked if we were a couple."

"BWAHAHA! She totally hit your weak point dude!"

Alfred laughed loudly at the flustered brit until his hand brushed across something.

"Huh? What's this?"

Alfred stared at the unrecognized photo that was held in his hand. Arthur looked at the picture then said,

"That I remember!"

* * *

><p><strong>Whoo! New fanfic~! I am actually really happy with how this turned out! The part with the tourist and Alfred was actully based on what happen at my job a couple of days ago. I play the role of Arthur who somehow learned to speak Russian! Sorry, but I see Arthur as the smart one in this couple and it would be weird for Alfred to speak Russian. Oh! if anyone know another way to call someone whose British or American that NOT insulting please tell me! I don't have enough lingo! TwT OK now it's time for business!<strong>

**For those who don't know human names:**

**Alfred=America**

**Arthur=England**

**Antonio=Spain**

**Lovino(Lovi)=**

**Translations:**

**Sí=Yes**

**Mes amigos!=My friends!**

**Не могли бы вы сфотографировать нас?= Can you please take a picture of us?**

**Хм...Вы двое пара?=Hm...Are you two a couple?**

**and if you haven't noticed, anything between the 'xxxxx' are the 'memories'. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be published, but i'll try my best to get it out soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

"That I remember!"

"Huh? Really? I can't remember that at all!"

In the picture that Alfred was holding, they both seemed to be having dinner. The room was dark except for the dazzling lights of the city shining through a window and three candles that were lite up in the middle of the table, which were emitting a soft glow. Alfred was giving a sympathetic smile as he wiped tears from the half happy face of Arthur, who was sitting across from him. They were eating some sort of meat that looked as if it was prepared by professional chef. And what was that familiar looking building in the window...?

"Alfred! We were at Francis' house! Can't you see the Eiffel Tower in the window?"

Alfred didn't think the usual 'I KNEW IT!', instead he thought (out loud of course)

"WHY IN HELL DID WE GO TO FRANCIS' HOUSE?"

Alfred was shocked that Arthur even did so much as to set foot in Francis' place.

"God, you still don't remember?"

Alfred shook his head in response to the question, still confused about the situation.

"Fine. I'll tell you so sit still and listen!"

* * *

><p>"FINE YOU GIT! Go wherever you want!"<p>

And with that, Arthur stomped out of the room with a storm cloud hanging over his head. Alfred and Arthur had been discussing where there next destination would be when Alfred mentioned going to Francis', forgetting about the bad blood between them. Arthur practically threw a fit at the mention of the French man's name, so that fit somehow grew to an argument that caused the brit to march out of the room some what dramatically. Alfred collapsed onto the hotel's fluffy bed and muttered to himself,

"Ugh...What should I do?"

Alfred needed to find a way to get Arthur to Paris because, as cheesy as it sounded, he wanted to take Arthur to a moonlit dinner under the Eiffel Tower. Suddenly, an idea flashed through his mind. He had come up with a plan so that Arthur would not be able to run away. In one swift movement, Alfred whipped out his cell phone and quickly dialed Francis' number.

"Âllo, Francis Bonn-"

"Hey Francis! Can you kidnap me?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"...Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Why in Gods name would I kidnap you?"

"Well..."

Alfred took at least a good fifteen minutes explaining what happened and why he needed Francis to 'kidnap' him. Alfred was saying the last few words of his sentence when he was cut off by Francis' oh-so-French laugh.

"Ohonhon~ A matter of love, oui?"

"Y-Yeah."

A rarely seen blush crept across Alfred's face.

"Then hurry over to my place and bring your cell phone. I'll take care of dinner."

"Thanks Francis! I never knew I could count on you!"

"Do not push it."

•••••

Arthur was currently glumly trudging through some street market (which was far to joyful for the mood he was in), kicking any jagged pebbles that he would find placed in his path. Who does that American think he is, thought Arthur, taking me to my worse enemy's house! Tha-

Bzzzt!

A familiar buzzing came from his pant pocket. Pulling his phone out, Arthur checked the caller ID. Ugh. It was Alfred.

"What do you want, git?"

"ARTH- mmppft!-"

"Alfred?

"..."

"Al?"

"..."

Arthur was starting to worry due to the silence on the on the other side of the line when a deep, coy voice burst through.

"Bonjour, mon chéri."

"FRANCIS, YOU WA-"

People turned to look at Arthur, some trying to listen to what was peeving him so badly.

"If you want to see your amour, come and get him."

"WHAT D-"

Click.

The line went dead, leaving Arthur as a pale, shuddering mess in the middle of the street.

"Arthur! How's your trip go-"

Antonio seemed to be on a date with Lovino when he discovered the trembling Brit. Arthur turned around to face the Spaniard, unaware of how bad he looked.

"Oi, what's wrong?"

Antonio put on a serious but concerned face for it was unusual to see Arthur so shaken.

"A-Alfred...Kidnapped by Francis..."

Arthur looked just about ready to break down when Lovino spoke up.

"My car isn't park far from here if you need a ride."

The English man just nodded his had as the hurried to the Italian's car.

•••••

"I'm going inside. You two wait in here."

Arthur had some what calmed down and was now more angry then upset. He march out of the car and slam the door violently. While nodding in agreement to staying the car, something white caught Antonio's eye. Looking closely, he could see Francis in the window motioning for him to be quiet. Francis seemed to be holding up slides. The first one read 'You can leave' when that one was dropped, the second one read 'Alfred planned surprise dinner for him+Arthur'. Antonio grinned at the last slide, waited till Arthur was in Francis' house then told Lovino to drive away.

•••••

"Ohon-"

"WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS HE?"

Arthur pinned Francis against the wall forcefully with his rage boiling to the brim. Francis, who was now ever so slightly frightened, quickly recoiled and pointed to the stair case.

"He is upstairs!"

Arthur shoved the French man aside as he raced up the old fashion stairs.

"ALFRED!"

Arthur shouted the name once he reached the top of the staircase where Alfred supposedly was. He was definitely there.

"Hey there, Arty."

Alfred was standing in the dimly lighted room beside an extremely well set table, with food that looked like it was made by a gourmet chef or Francis. Most likely Francis. Alfred was wearing a sharp black suit that fit him perfectly and, of course, a tie that had the American flag splattered across it.

"Don't just stand there Arty! Come and sit down!"

Alfred jerked Arthur into his seat and said,

"See, this is why I wanted you to come to Fran- H-Hey! Your not suppose to be crying!"

Arthur, who had awakened from his daze, had started crying out of relief.

"Y-You git! I was worried! W-What if something happened to you?"

"Sorry Arty, but I figured this was the only way to get you to come to Francis'."

Alfred stretched over the table to wipe away Arthur's falling tears.

"Y-You could have just told me!", stuttered Arthur as his tears began to turn to sniffles.

"There was that option, but then there's no surprise! Now let's eat, 'cause the food's kind of getting cold."

"Okay"

Arthur grinned at the American's response as he began to eat his delicious looking supper.

"Ohonhon~ What a cute picture!"

Arthur and Alfred jumped with a start when Francis suddenly glided out from behind a curtain holding a camera.

"Y-You wanker! How long have you been there?"

"Long enough, mon chéri.", smirked France as he waved the camera and left the flustered couple.

* * *

><p>"That frog's lucky that we got a nice picture.", grumbled Arthur as he push through the pile for another picture.<p>

"Oh! What's this?", exclaimed Arthur as he pulled a small picture from the stack of photos.

"Oh-ho! Now that was an event!"

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! Another chapter! Yeah, I felt like writing something sort of dramatic and so this is what happened =w='. Btw, to me Francis=comic relief though I might do something serious with him some time soon~<strong>

**Translations:**

**mon chéri= my darling**

**(what a lo-ong list! *sarcasm sarcasm*)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh-ho! Now that was something to remember!"

"I feel like I should be able to recall this...", pondered Arthur, shutting his eyes while deep in thought. This time, Arthur had pulled out not a photo, but a small newspaper clipping. It was headlined 'Swimming Savior!' and showed a picture of a relaxed beach during sunset.

"Well, you were knocked-out...", muttered Alfred as if something about this memory tired him.

"WHAT?", shouted Arthur, unsure of what Alfred was talking about.

"Turn over the clip."

Assuming that Alfred meant the newspaper clipping, Arthur quickly turned it over. What the British man saw shocked him. The same beach that was shown on the front of the paper was now an angry, storm torn sea. But that wasn't what surprised Arthur, no, it was the people in the picture. The shot was rather blurry and there were droplets of rain on the camera's lens, but you could clearly see Alfred in the crashing waves frantically swimming trying to keep Arthur's dead-looking body afloat. The Brit looked down at the picture then up at Alfred then back at the picture.

"How was I the one being saved?", asked Arthur with a confused look on his face. After all, he was the one who was once a pirate.

"Dude, haven't I told you before? I'm the hero!"

Alfred announced this statement proudly, face smug with pride.

"B-But..."

"Since you can't remember, why don't I refresh the memory of my heroism for you Arty!"

"Fine..."

Arthur knew that even if he declined the offer, Alfred would tell it to him anyway.

* * *

><p>"Okay bastards, I drove you here but your finding your own way home."<p>

Lovino had let Arthur and Alfred off at one of his famed beaches then almost ran them over as he drove away.

"What a beau-OH SHIT!"

Alfred suddenly whirled around mid-step and madly dashed after Lovino's runaway car, waving his arms in the air. After Alfred managed to chase down and halt the Italian's vehicle, Arthur finally caught up to the scrambling American.

"Wha...What the bloody hell are you doing, git...?"

Arthur was panting heavily due to the amount of running where as Alfred had barely broken a sweat.

"Well, I had to get the sunscreen 'cause I know you'll never last without it!"

Alfred dangled the small bottle of sun block in front Arthur who was currently reminiscing over another (bad) time that he went to the beach without sun lotion. Ouch.

"W-Whatever, git...", mumbled the Brit as he snatched the bottle away from Alfred.

"Ok...What a beautiful day!"

Alfred had restarted his sentence from earlier, Arthur mentally face-palmed. Unexpectedly, with one swift swoop of his arm Alfred picked up Arthur and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As the American started sprinting en route to the beach, Arthur started trying to escape Alfred's stalwart grip and shouted,

"PUT ME DOWN ALFRED!"

"No way dude! You run wa-ay to slow!"

"No I- WAHHH!"

Upon hitting the sand, the footing became loose and had caused Alfred to stumble onto the ground below. Taking Arthur down with him.

"Ow-"

Arthur's groans were quickly swallowed when he realized the position he was in. A blush quickly crept up and across his face. When Alfred tripped, the Brit had naturally fallen backwards because the way he was being carried. Now, Arthur was pinned to the ground beneath Alfred's large body. The American who was completely oblivious as usual, just laughed off the tumble then placed a small kiss on Arthur's forehead before standing up.

"BWAHAHA! Arty, you look like someone dumped ketchup all over your face! Oh, look! They're offering boat rides!"

As Alfred ran towards the docks, Arthur stood up with a sigh. Alfred's thoughts were as scattered as usual. Arthur jogged up to where Alfred was talking to the women who managed the boat rides (Lucky, she could speak english.) Alfred turned happily to Arthur and said,

"The lady said that the next ship leaves in fifteen minutes and that's the last one 'cause there's suppose to be a storm coming."

Arthur looked up at the cerulean sky, only seeing a few stray clouds. The English man put a wide grin on his face and stated,

"Then let's get going!"

He had a good feeling about this.

•••••

"Look Alfred! Isn't it beautiful? It's like an endless stretch of blue!"

Alfred was shocked at the way Arthur was glowing as he looked out at the water. It was the most enthusiasm Alfred had seen from Arthur in years! The younger nation wanted to keep absorbing the strange sight but instead was glancing nervously at the sky. The boat trip had started off great with barely any clouds in sight, but now there were dangerously dark masses floating in the sky and the waves were slowly getting higher.

"I hope we turn back soon...", murmured Alfred with a bit of fear in his voice.

"Huh? Why Al?"

As if on cue, a sonic blast of thunder rumbled through the sky and the rain began to pour down. As the waves began to rise almost taller then the boat, a scratchy-metallic voice came across the boat's intercom.

"The waters are becoming to dangerous. We ask that you hold onto the rails until we make it to shore."

As everyone scrambled to grab a section of railing, disaster struck. A large surge of water came up and dosed the ship's deck with the slippery liquid. Most of the passengers got lucky and were able to get their balance before falling over, but not...

"ARTHUR!"

Alfred flung out his hand, but the Brit missed the chance and plunged into the choppy waters. The vessel's crew started to race around trying to gather all the tools necessary to lift Arthur out of the water, but Alfred didn't hesitate. He hurtled himself into the sea and started treading though the constant waves.

Gosh, this guy was a pirate but can barely swim, thought Alfred as he kept an eye on the flailing man. When Alfred thought he finally had Arthur in his grasp, the English man slipped under the waves.

"Crap!"

Alfred dove under the water and pulled Arthur's unconscious body to the tormenting surface. Even though Alfred managed to rescue Arthur, there was still one problem. How would he get back on the boat?

"Umm...Crap!", said Alfred as he tried to remember the very limited Italian he knew.

"Gettare...galleggiare!"

Alfred shouted the first words that came to mind and projected them toward the boat as best he could. Two people on the ship gave the American a thumbs up then threw him the life buoy and hoisted the couple onto the floating vehicle.

"Take'm below deck!", said one of the crew members as he opened a hatch that led below deck.

"Thanks! Where are the towels?", screamed Alfred over the wind.

"First cupboard to the left! We're almost at shore! There should be an ambulance waiting!"

The Italian man finished his sentence then shut entrance so no rain would get in. Alfred placed Arthur's limp body on a miniature couch, then scurried over to the said towel cupboard and pulled out a large, fluffy piece of fabric.

"Ngh...", Arthur had started to wake up from his previously comatose state.

"Arty?"

Alfred spun around so fast that he practically tripped over his own. Arthur coughed up water but then sputtered out,

"Of course, you git."

Alfred ignored the comment and pounced on to the older nation, wrapping him in a towel then hugging the man through it.

"Your okay! I was kinda worried that you wouldn't wake up!"

"I was only unconscious.", said Arthur bluntly but not pulling away from the embrace. Suddenly, the entrance way opened and a woman yelled down,

"We reached shore and there are paramedics just off the docks!"

"Okay! Hey Arty, can you walk?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Arthur stood up and took one shaky step.

"Hmm. Okay. Put your arm around me for support!", said Alfred almost to eagerly.

"Ehh?"

Arthur was rather embarrassed but didn't protest when Alfred put his arm on his waist.

Once on the beach, Arthur was whisked away by paramedics while Alfred lean against the side of the ambulance. The storm had seemed to clear up rather quickly because the sky was nearly completely cloud free.

"Ahh! Ciao, Alfred! Are you alright?"

Feliciano ran up to Alfred, with Ludwig not far behind, and waved his hand in a slightly concerned greeting.

"Hey! I'm fine and they're just checking out Arthur, but what're you doing here? What happened to Lovino?", asked Alfred, after all, they were staying at Lovino's house.

"Veh~ he called me to come down here because he was busy. I was out with Ludwig so he had to come along."

Ludwig, who was standing behind Feliciano, said nothing but nodded at the statement.

"Ahh...That makes sense."

"Alfred!"

Arthur ran up to the group with the towel still draped across his shoulders.

"Oh! Ludwig, Feliciano! How do you do?"

"Fine. Are you okay?"

Ludwig had finally spoken up from his silence.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"I'm going to go check on the other passengers! Ciao!"

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's wrist and left as soon as he came.

"Are you really okay?"

Arthur turned his attention to Alfred, who was nervously fidgeting and staring with concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine, Alfred."

Arthur stood on his tiptoes and attempted to place a kiss on Alfred's head but instead ended up on his nose.

"Why don't we just go back to Lovino's and relax for the rest of day?"

Alfred smiled and nodded his head in agreement, but then hesitated.

"Lovino is supposedly 'busy', do ya wanna just go to a café?"

"Sure Al.", said Arthur flashing one of his rare smiles.

* * *

><p>"And that's my story!", finished Alfred proudly.<p>

"Ugh...how utterly embarrassing."

Arthur sighed as he moved to the corner of the room where a lone picture laid. Upon turning over the print, Arthur's eyes ignited with glee.

"Aha! I knew I had a picture of this somewhere! Come here Alfred! This is proof not all my food is trash!"

* * *

><p><strong>Hi-low! I finally got this chapter out! I caught a cold, had to write an essay, then had a writer's block on top of it all! But I managed to write this because me and a couple friends met up at a cafe and I asked them what would be a perfect romantic moment. They all said a walk on the beach at sunset but I wanted something less typical so my friend Grace said <strong>a walk on the beach at sunset when it's raining. And then I imagined Arthur drowning. What a great mind I have *sarcasm sarcasm*. Oh! And I promise the next chapter <span>will<span> be fluff! Ok, I'll stop rambling now. Hope you like~****


	4. Chapter 4

"Aha! I knew I had a picture of this somewhere! Come here Alfred! This is proof not all my food is trash!"

Arthur contently sat in his corner and stared at his discovery like it was his pride printed on a piece of paper.

"What the hell's that picture of?", asked Alfred in an inquiring voice, as

"Take a look for your self!", responded Arthur, happily shoving the loose picture in to the Americans face. Alfred removed the photograph from his features, then held it out in front of himself. What he saw put him in awe. The photo displayed a scene where a beaming Arthur smiled widely at the camera while holding out a simple yet delicious looking meal.

"Arty, d-did you make that food?", stuttered Alfred, looking up at Arthur with a shocked expression.

"You bet your bloody ass I made it! It was my first palatable meal that you actually liked!", Arthur announced contently.

"But how did this one meal turn out so good?", asked Alfred putting an emphasize on the word 'one'. Arthur blushed and squirmed slightly.

"It was made with love."

Alfred tried to stifle his laughter then shouted,

"Dude! That sounded so cheesy!"

Arthur pulled himself over to the couch, took a large, fluffy pillow and whacked Alfred across the head.

"OW!"

"GIT!"

Alfred rubbed the sore spot where he had just received a one-two punch from a pillow and turned to Arthur.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You called me cheesy without even listening to the story behind my comment! Do not judge a book by its cover, Alfred."

Arthur quickly retorted against Alfred's semi-question.

"Fine then. Tell me the story, then I'll tell you my option."

Normally, Alfred would complain about how long Arthur's stories were but this time he was actually extremely curious about what had happen to create this photo.

"Wow Alfred, that was surprisingly mature of you. But never mind that so we can get on with this memoir-like thing."

* * *

><p>"Ah! Finally, a place we can relax!"<p>

It was 1:00 am and Alfred and Arthur had just arrived at Feliks' house. Feliks was gone for the weekend so they had let themselves in using the spare key (which was infamously hidden under the door mat.) and were now preparing for bed.

Once the couple were washed, they both sauntered toward the bed and slide under the creamy white covers.

"Wow, this place isn't as 'wicked hipster pink' as I thought it be.", said Alfred as he slipped under covers and turn out lamp beside him which only barely light the petite room. When there was no reply from the small figure that was already curled up on the bed and facing the wall, Alfred assumed Arthur was already asleep. Alfred removed his thin-framed glasses and placed them quietly on the small nightstand, being careful not to wake the sleeping Brit.

"Hey Alfred.", mumbled Arthur softly and causing Alfred to jump practically two feet.

"Alfred can you leave the house for a couple of hours tomorrow in the morning? I would like to do something."

"No!", exclaimed Alfred much louder then intended.

"I mean...no.", whispered Alfred apologetically.

"Every time I leave you alone, you either become upset or get hurt."

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's upper body affectionately, trying to tell that he was serious.

"That's rather caring of you Alfred, but I really need to do something."

Arthur emphasized the word really in the sentence, trying express how much he wanted this.

"Okay, but no freaky-secret deals with the CSI or whatever they got here in Poland.", responded Alfred in a playful but weary tone.

"Thanks, Al.", said Arthur, saying the rarely used nickname he had given Alfred. Arthur rolled over in Alfred's arms and nuzzled his face into the larger nation's chest, which smelled like a mix of coffee and McDonald's. A small grin spread out on Arthur's lips at the (oddly) comforting scent and warmth that he knew was simply Alfred.

"Good night."

•••••

"Come and get up, git! You promised you would leave in the morning, not the afternoon!"

Alfred opened his eyes and squinted at the bright sun that was partially blocked by a figure he couldn't quite make out (though, judging by the accent, he was almost certain that it was Arthur). Alfred craned his head toward the clock to check the time.

"Gosh Arty, it's only 8:00...", murmured Alfred, trying to shake off his 'early' morning daze.

"Yes, it is! And I want you out of here by 9:00! So hurry up and and put on some proper clothing!"

Arthur threw some dark wash jeans and a t-shirt that said 'I am HERO!' at Alfred who was still getting up it what looked like slow motion. As if getting cold clothing thrown at him wasn't enough of a wake up call, Arthur quickly added in,

"Oh! I almost forgot!"

And whipped a pair of American flag boxers at Alfred's face.

"Ok, Arty! I get it! I'll get dressed!"

Alfred jumped out of the comfort of his warm bed and rapidly started pulling on his pants. Arthur watched Alfred get dressed while he stared at his watch and tapped his foot impenitently. Once Alfred was dressed (well, he still had to pull on his shirt but that didn't matter), he was pushed to the doorway and an array of items were shoved into his face. As he finished putting on his shirt, Alfred looked down at the items 'given' to him. He was currently holding a (store bought) blueberry muffin, a tourist map and his trademark bomber jacket.

"What's all this for?", asked Alfred with curiosity.

"Isn't it obvious? A muffin so you don't go hungry, a map so you don't get lost and your jacket because, well, you don't usually leave the house without it.", spoke Arthur with slight annoyance lacing through his words.

"Awww! I didn't know you cared Arty!"

"GET. OUT. NOW... And be home by 11:00.", said Arthur as he scooted Alfred out the door to hide his blush.

"'Kay, I'm going! Bye-bye Arty!"

Alfred jumped into their rental car and started driving his way into the town. There was a pause of silence once the small vehicle pulled out of the drive way until Arthur shouted loudly to himself,

"LET'S GET COOKING!" Yes, cooking.

Once the sound of his voice echoed to silence, Arthur quickly whipped out his cell phone and dialed in Feliks' number. The familiar sound of the dial tone rung out, then the click of someone picking up.

"Hello? Arthur? This is Toris on Feliks' cell. He's unavailable ri-"

Before Toris could finish his sentence, a familiar voice chimed in farther away from the phone.

"I'm totally back, Tori~ Oh? You're, like, on my phone! Who is it?"

There was a muffled whisper then a buoyant voice came on the line.

"Hi Arty! Li-"

"Do NOT call me 'Arty'!", said Arthur, becoming slightly annoyed at Feliks' use of the pet name Alfred had given him.

"Aww, but Alfred said I could!", whine Feliks playfully.

"Never mind what Alfred said. The reason I'm calling is because I need to know where you store your cook book."

"Whoa Arthur! Your, like, totally going to cook? Ohhh! I bet it's for Al~!"

Arthur was suddenly glad he was only on the phone because he knew that Feliks would have made fun of his cherry-red face.

"Sh-Shut-up! Just tell me where the damn cook book is!"

A stifled giggle could be heard from Feliks' end, then,

"Ah! Tori! There are eggs-"

A crashing sound.

"GWAH! That's, like, a HUGE mess! Oh! The cook books in the drawer beside the stove! Gotta go!"

A click played through the phone's speakers, telling Arthur that Feliks had hung up. Arthur sighed as he made his way to the kitchen. The things he did for Alfred! Arthur pulled the cookbook from the drawer and began flipping through the sections.

Appetizers, no. Breakfast, no. Lunch, yes!

The English man smiled and began to look at the recipes presented to him. This one doesn't look to hard, thought Arthur as he looked at a stew recipe.

Deciding on the recipe he found, Arthur took out some beef from the fridge to start cooking. As the Briton started to cut the pieces of beef up, he found that the house felt seemed empty without the bumbling voice of Alfred bouncing off the walls. Out of the corner of his left eye, Arthur noticed a radio nuzzled in the corner of an open face shelf and decided that maybe all he needed was a bit of music. Arthur quickly washed off his hand and walk across the kitchen to where the radio had been left. As he started to play with the dials on the radio (Polish music wasn't exactly his thing), Arthur came across a station he recognized from Alfred's house. Leaving it at that, Arthur went back to his chopping.

•••••

It had been at least a hour and a half and Arthur had finally got the stew actually cooking. Stopping his stirring for a moment, Arthur noticed that a song he knew was playing on the radio.

"...incase they're wondering...pinned terribly..."

Arthur started to mumble out the lyrics subconsciously.

"...you should know it's true, just now, the part about my love for you and now..."

As the song progressed, the volume of Arthur's (rather good) voice began to rise until he was fully belting out the lyrics.

"Baby it's fact! Our love is true! The way black is black, and blue is just blue!"

•••••

"Ah, damn! I'm early! I hope Arty isn't mad!", whispered Alfred to himself as he unlocked the door. The American was about to announce his arrival when he heard one of his own tunes coming from the kitchen and a certain British man singing it. Sneaking up behind Arthur, Alfred decided to surprise the man a bit. Arthur was currently at the last chorus.

"Baby it's fact~!"

"Oh, oh baby!"

Alfred joined in, echoing every line

Arthur sung. Until he turned around.

"AH!", screamed Arthur, "How long have you been there?"

"How long has someone been echoing your voice?", smirked Alfred mischievously. A blush made it's way across Arthur face, soon realizing that Alfred had been there for quite some time.

"Hey, can we eat now? I'm starving!", asked Alfred, smelling the stew.

"Of course, but are you not surprised that I cooked?", questioned Arthur in a confused voice.

"You talk in your sleep.", grinned Alfred wickedly.

"GIT!"

* * *

><p>"I knew that story was a good one!", said Alfred, acting smart while nodding his head.<p>

"Oh as i- Wow! Look at the time it's already 6:00 and only 4 pictures!"

Arthur cut himself off when he saw the time.

"I'll cook!", said Alfred shooting up from where he was sitting.

"Hey! You heard the story! Let me cook!", pouted Arthur.

"That was ONE meal, Arty.", yelled Alfred from the kitchen.

"Oh, shut up!", growled Arthur, leaving the old pictures to bathe in the light of the fading sun. Truly, photographic memories.

* * *

><p><strong>It's over! Had a lot of fun writing this ;) Also, if your wondering, I have this headcanon that any country with a famous band or singer has a really good singing voice XD My next big fanfic is going to be for Homestuck. Yes Homestuck. I love Hetalia AND Homestuck. Sue me XD. Anywhozzle~ Thx for reading and I hope you read my other works ;D<strong>


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